


Boy Meets Pandemic

by gatoradeeh7x3



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: Bad Parenting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm hitting a lot of genres here, Lockdown Fic, Minor Topanga Lawrence-Matthews/Cory Matthews, Shawn Hunter Needs a Hug, but also comedic?, if boy meets world had phones and zoom, lowkey we all do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatoradeeh7x3/pseuds/gatoradeeh7x3
Summary: When the state calls in a lockdown, John Quincy Adams Middle School is forced to close its doors and welcome in the age of Zoom. Feeny's panicking about technology, Cory's driving his parents insane, and Eric just wants to get laid.Meanwhile, Shawn Hunter? He's got bigger fish to fry.
Relationships: Cory Matthews & Shawn Hunter, Shawn Hunter & Jonathan Turner
Comments: 24
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

Jonathan Turner remembers when the news broke. 

He was in the middle of his eighth grade English class, holding a phone he’d swooped in to confiscate from a very sheepish boy. 

“Seriously, Matthews? Again with this Among Us game?”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Turner,” Cory pleads, “I’ve been playing all class and they finally made me impostor.” 

“You’ve been playing all class?!” 

Cory slaps his forehead, reprimanding himself. “Great job, dimwit.” 

Turner looks down at his phone before looking up at the suspiciously quiet Hunter boy. “And this Cherry Bomb Killer you’re playing with wouldn’t happen to be anyone we know?” 

Shawn groans. “You don’t kick a man while he’s down, okay?”

Cory’s back straightens and he smiles proudly. “ _ I _ killed the Cherry Bomb Killer! What does that make me?” 

“The Cherry Bomb Killer Killer?” Topanga suggests. 

“More like the kid who has detention.” Turner says, leaning against an empty desk. 

Suddenly, the phone in his hand vibrates, along with every other device in the class. Turner doesn’t even have time to read the message when Feeny’s voice breaks through the loudspeaker, his usually calm voice tense with urgency. 

“Students of John Adams Middle School, I regret to inform you that with the rising coronavirus cases, the state has recommended the immediate closure of all in-person school activities until further notice. You may continue with the last class of the day, and more information will be coming your way soon as the situation develops. I promise you, we are taking this very seriously.” 

His entire class’ faces run the gamut between confused and shocked. Shawn and Cory have turned to each other, high-fiving.

“This is sweet!” Shawn’s eyes are wide. “Summer vacation come early.”

“They can’t just shut down school.” Topanga’s voice rings through their conversation bossily, before turning to Turner with hesitation. “Right?”

Now he has a whole class of unblinking eyes staring up at him for answers. Great. 

He spots Feeny exiting his office out the door and shushes the ruckus. “Listen, I’m going to go talk to Feeny about this. In the meanwhile, stay calm.” 

As he leaves, he hears Cory call after him. “Wait! My phone!”

Turner rolls his eyes. That kid and his priorities. 

~~~

“Feeny, I think I and the rest of the teachers would have appreciated the heads-up about this news.”

“Do you think I’m overjoyed by this turn of events? Do you see me running through a meadow of sunflowers, shouting ‘Yippee’?”

“...no?” 

“Precisely so! John, I just got the most horrendous call of my life. My heart wasn’t strong enough to bear it.”

“Oh God, Feeny, you’re hyperventilating, I think you should sit down.” 

“The city has recommended we move our classes…”

“Breathe, man, breathe!” Tuner shakes his pale, stricken boss. 

“...online!”

“Oh, well, that’s not so bad!”

“...”

“I think we’ve lost him.” 

~~~

“Honey, why do you have a cardboard box filled with… Oreos?” Amy asks her son, peering at him over her phone where she scrolled through her twitter feed for news. 

Cory tosses the box onto the living room coffee table before slumping down into the couch with a sigh. “They told us to clear out our lockers.”

“Yes, I got the email. But sweetheart, that doesn’t explain the Oreos.” 

The kid sighs. “Topanga likes Oreos.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I  _ was _ going to ask her out today, after school.” 

Amy doubts it, but she plays along. “But now?”

“There is no after school! We’re on  _ Zoom _ for the foreseeable future. Again, the universe foils my plans!” He raises a fist at the sky angrily and Amy can’t help but chuckle. 

Eric blasts in from the kitchen, grabbing an Oreo from the table and dropping a whole row into his mouth. He speaks through the crumbs. “Does this mean I can’t go to the movies with Melissa on Friday night?”

“No, Eric! You can’t see Melissa. And Cory, you can’t see Shawn.”

Cory’s head snaps up. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said I couldn’t see Shawn but I must have been mistaken. My own  _ mother _ would never deliberately hurt me like that.” 

Amy crosses her arms. “You know the rules. Until we get things together, it’s video chatting for you two.” 

“But Mom! You know how his wifi is.”

She grimaces. “You’ll have to make it work.” 

Eric sobs loudly. “Mom, you know Melissa Flint? No? You might know her by her nickname, **Baby Lips.** _YOU KNOW WHY THEY CALL HER BABY LIPS?_ ”

“No?”

“Neither do I! And I sure as heck won’t find out over VIDEO CHAT!” 

Alan shoves his way through the door, his shirt torn, his hair messy. He looks for all the world like a hurricane dropped him off at their house. 

“Dad?” Cory squints as Morgan peers around the corner. Even Eric looks up from his sulk on the carpet. 

“Alan, what happened?!” Amy runs to him, concerned. “Did something happen at the grocery store?”

He sets his face, staring off into the distance, shell-shocked. 

“Toilet paper. Toilet paper happened.” 

~~~

Shawn comes home to an empty trailer, shoving angrily through the gang of guys at the entrance who pretended to cough on him as a “joke”, hearing their cackles fade behind him as he jimmies the door closed. 

He gives their family laptop a smack until it turns on, plugging in a charger held together with duct tape and wishful thinking. The emails from the school take minutes to load, unread just like the last twenty. The only emails his parents bothered opening were the contests and the newsletters with the coupons. 

Shawn sits in the claustrophobic space with a laptop overheating in his lap from just moments of use, its fan loudly whirring as it spun like Shawn’s brain. His dad was out at a pub running a scam, his mom was out… somewhere.

How was he going to survive this lockdown?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little chaotic blurb before the angst of next chapter, showing how Feeny and Eric are handling things. Enjoy!

_ Shawn: Is Feeny using… Bing? _

_ Cory: Can someone please teach him what screen sharing is, _

_ I’m getting motion sickness _

_ Shawn: Oh God, he wants me to read out the passage _

_ Pray for me _

Shawn squints at the shaky stream of Feeny’s history textbook, filmed with the camera quality of a Nokia in 2007. “I’m sorry, Feeny, I don’t speak that language.”

“Mr. Hunter, English is the only language you speak fluently, and I use the term fluently loosely.”

“No, I meant I don’t speak 240p.”

Cory unmutes himself just to giggle. 

Feeny sighs. “This is just another one of your ploys to get out of doing work. I’m sure someone with enthusiasm to learn and a dedication to their education would find this more than legible. Isn’t that right, Topanga?” 

Topanga panics, sputtering as she searches for a response that won’t upset the man in charge of deciding her grades. “O-of course! Come on, Shawn, the passage is  _ clearly _ talking about the American Revolution.” 

“..."

"..."

"...We’re studying the Fall of Rome.” Feeny doesn’t sound mad, just disappointed. In himself, probably. 

Topanga squeaks anyways. 

  
Cory grimaces, speaking aside to his brother, who’s been watching the scene excitedly with a bowl of caramel popcorn while providing invaluable commentary in the form of belches. “I think I can hear Feeny cursing out the technological revolution all the way from my room.”

Eric’s eyes widen as he spots an opportunity and he trips down the stairs running out the door into his backyard. 

The Feeny Call rings out over Zoom. 

Cory sees Feeny groan and answer the door, shouting out to Eric from a distance. “What on Earth is it?”

“You and me, Feeny, we’re the same. I suggest a little _ tit for tat _ , a little  _ give and take _ , maybe some  _ kid poor cone. _ ” 

“Do you mean quid pro quo?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? Anyways, you need to learn how to use Zoom, I need to figure out how to write an essay now that my usual supplier -  _ I mean, tutor _ \- is gone back to Bangladesh.”

“You are suggesting a trade of information?”

“Exactly! You scratch my back, I scratch yours! Well, no actual scratching because of the coronavirus and because I’m growing out my fingernails to donate them to the nail charity and all-”

“What in God’s name would a charity be using your fingernails for?!”

“Feeny! I thought you’d be happy I’m helping blind kids!”

Feeny takes a long breath, feeling a headache coming on. “Do you, by any chance, mean... braille?”

“Oh! That’s the one!”

Feeny lets it go, for his own sanity. 

The teacher glances at the time, recognizing that he’d left his class waiting. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your help with Zoom in exchange for a tutoring session or two. Now, please, follow the wise and wonderful words of our medical professionals and GO HOME.”

“Bye, Feeny! Nice doing business with you!” Eric parts with a cheery wave. 

Feeny returns to his laptop, only to find a cacophony of messages all laughing at his conversation. He’d left his computer unmuted. 

This deal with Eric was looking more necessary by the second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeny's never getting rid of Eric and that's a fact lmao


	3. Chapter 3

Alan storms into the door, Eric trailing behind sheepishly. “It’s not my fault, Dad!”

Amy looks up from where she’s gluing pool noodles onto a princess crown. “Cory, wipe them down. Eric, what did you do?” 

Cory sighs wearily as he tears his eyes away from the TV to go get the spray bottle of sanitizing solution.

Eric raises his hands as if to say he’s innocent. “I didn’t do anything… that bad.”

Alan groans. “Your son-”

“Our son,” Amy corrects. 

“We’re still not certain Eric’s mine, you and the mailman were looking real cozy nine months before he was born.”

Amy glares at him. 

“Fine, our son. Anyways, I asked Eric to do  _ one thing _ at the grocery store. He just needed to place the arrow stickers on the floor in each aisle to keep people safe and moving.”

“I got distracted by a cute girl! How was I supposed to know that all the arrows I placed led to your office?”

Alan throws his hands up. “Amy, I had people rummaging through my drawers looking for groceries!” 

His eyes are wide with frustration, but they don’t stay that way for long because Cory spritzes him in the eye. 

“Whoops! Sorry, Dad. Better safe than sorry, though.”

Alan gives up and goes out to the backyard. 

Eric tilts his head at his mom. “Mom, why are you gluing pool noodles to a crown?” 

“It’s for Morgan,” she explains. “I need a way to send her on walks while making sure she’s staying six feet away from others.”

Knowing Morgan’s tendency to run off like an excitable puppy, both brothers acknowledged that the move was probably necessary. 

Eric turns to Cory next, smirking. “Don’t you have English class, Cory?” 

Cory checks the time and panics. “Five minutes to? I’ll never make it in time!” He’s grabbed his backpack and halfway out the door before he realizes his class was a few steps away, in his bedroom. 

He slowly turns around. “I hate you, Eric.” 

“Never gets old.” 

~~~

Turner hated online school, and it had nothing to do with the format. 

No, instead it was Hunter. Hunter and Matthews. But mostly Hunter. 

The first few online classes, Shawn couldn’t show because he was waiting on the state to send him one of those low-income laptops. He checked with Feeny, and the principal confirmed that the grant also covered reliable wifi. 

So why would Hunter spend four-fifths of class time without audio or video?

The class currently going on, for example. Turner is introducing Emily Dickinson as a famous recluse, hoping to inspire some of these kids stuck at home to ignite their creative spirit. 

“That’s not so bad,” Shawn chimes in, his knee drawn up to support his breakfast. “As long as she had UberEats.”

“They didn’t have UberEats in the 1850s, Shawn.” 

Shawn gasps. “Unthinkable!”

Cory brings his face close to the camera, giving the class a great shot of the inside of his nose. “Not that you need UberEats. Is that an ice cream sundae I see in your hands?”

“Breakfast of champions,” Shawn drawls through a mouthful of waffles and ice cream. Turner winces at the amount of chocolate syrup on top. 

“You’re so lucky, my mom would never let me have ice cream for breakfast.” Cory crosses his arms bitterly. 

Shawn laughs, the humour not reaching his eyes. Turner suspects that no parent was involved in this meal-making process. 

Still, he brings the focus back to the poem, managing to talk for an uninterrupted half-hour before Shawn’s screen catches his attention again. The boy was nervously darting his eyes off to the left the entire explanation, and he quickly reached for the laptop, only to cut his video off. 

Turner frowns. That was sudden. It wasn’t too abnormal, though, with a few of his more anxious students emailing him about feeling self-conscious turning their cameras on. He’d understood and accepted their choices, but why would the most extroverted kid in the class be embarrassed?

He tests the waters. “Shawn, what do you think about Dickinson’s refusal to use punctuation in this line?”

Shawn replies with his audio only, “Well, I think-”

_ CRASH! _

And then radio silence. 

Turner calls his name a few times, to no avail. 

Cory cuts in quickly, immediately at his friend’s defense as always. “It’s got to be the wifi, y’know?”

All Turner could do was keep teaching. 

Shawn’s video came back right as the class was about to end. The English teacher couldn’t help but notice that he was distracted, and he’d moved his laptop to an outside setting. Before he could privately message his student, the clock struck ten and the students were waving their ways out of the online meeting. 

At the end of the Zoom meeting, Turner as host was able to download a transcript of all of the messages sent. He respected his students’ privacy, of course, and immediately went to delete the file when his eye caught a chat between Cory and Shawn. 

_ Cory: Are you okay? What was that sound? _

Turner forces his eyes away from the rest of the chat, reminding himself. Student privacy. Very important. 

He distracted himself by turning on the TV, which was a major mistake. The news immediately began screaming at him with headlines. 

**New study shows low-income communities disproportionately vulnerable to the virus!**

**Unemployment at a record high!**

**Psychologists Discuss: Will lockdown exacerbate family abuse and mental health problems?**

Turner shuts off the TV and grabs his laptop. Despite the fact that he felt guilty reading the messages, he couldn’t shove down the worry eating away at him. 

_ Shawn: Cover for me with Turner.  _

_ Shawn: I’m okay, but my mom’s mad.  _

_ Shawn: She’s running away again. _

_ Shawn: But this time, she’s taking the trailer with her.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know the whole "host being able to read private messages on zoom" thing was debunked, but PLOT PROGRESSION lmfao 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos much appreciated! <3


End file.
